Matthew is getting up in years, you know--he's sixty--and he isn't so spry as he once was.

His heart troubles him a good deal.

And you know how desperate hard it's got to be to get hired help.

There's never anybody to be had but those stupid, half-grown little French boys; and as soon as you do get one broke into your ways and taught something he's up and off to the lobster canneries or the States.

At first Matthew suggested getting a Home boy.